How dear?

Watered down, my life is watered down
Simplified into numbers, mere statistics
That will, in a near foreseeable future
Be used by fascists
How dear will I be then?
How dear will my life be?

All I see is mist, fog, and dreariness
All I see is clenched teeth and I told you so
All I see is waving flags
Tattoos and beer breath, drunken and bold
Tearing down the so called streets of peace
Demanding, oh so demanding
How dear am I to anyone?
How dear is my life?

Forget local accents, commoners’ crimes
The real fascists are educated, privileged bastards
In their bastards suits and ties
Ready to tie you up and throw you in the bin
Alongside their other bills
They do this while singing chimes of
Equality, equality and fairness – oh and freedom
Whatever the hell that means
What does anything mean?
Everything is a social construction
So
How dear have I ever been to anyone?
How dear has my life been?

That are the questions I will be asking
When those fascists
Tattooed and suited
Come knock on my door for papers and ask for my blood
And will march their superiority
Demanding hierarchy – them on top
I have already been simplified into a statistic
That will be used by fascists
How dear?
No dear, never dear.